A Lost Love, A Lost Life
by forestwife
Summary: Aftermath of ‘Family of Blood’. What if the Doctor wasn’t as fine as he pretended to be? And when he falls apart, it’s up to Martha to pick up the pieces.


A Lost Love, A Lost Life

After they'd left the WW1 memorial service, having seen Tim once more, the Doctor brushed off Martha and her questions, and fled into the depths of the TARDIS.

_I'm fine,_ he'd said to her. But in truth, he was far from it. He still remembered everything from his time as the insignificant human called John Smith, and it was tearing him apart inside, piece by piece.

The Doctor had known loss before. He was no stranger to it. But over the centuries, he'd grown accustomed to it, he'd hardened against it, he'd built walls around his heart as a failsafe to keep from being hurt again.

With Rose, he'd failed in that respect. He'd let her in, he'd depended on her, he'd let himself love her. But even then, he hadn't let her all the way into his heart, he'd kept some small measure of himself locked away. So when he lost her, it'd been enough to prevent the loss from destroying him. It'd hurt… by hell it had hurt. But he'd recovered, he'd bounced back and put on a smiling face… just as he always did.

John Smith on the other hand was another story. In his short fabricated life, he'd never truly known what it meant to lose someone you loved. He'd never seen death as the Doctor had either. He was vulnerable to it. His little human brain hadn't been able to deal with the choice the universe had foisted on him: live out his life with the woman he loved at the cost of millions across the galaxy… or sacrifice himself and never see her again… or not as himself anyway.

The Doctor's human persona had fallen headlong in love, he'd seen the life he could've had with Joan. He'd seen their wedding, their children, his death. He'd seen the laughter, the tears, the joy, the sorrow and the love. He'd seen everything of the life the Doctor could never have.

Pain was always difficult to cope with. Usually the Doctor managed… but this was different. John Smith's heart had broken, and the Doctor could still feel it bleeding inside him.

When Joan had asked him if he would change back, for a moment, the Doctor had been sorely tempted to say yes. A voice inside of him had screamed, _Yes! Say yes! Live out a human life with her, be happy, let the universe be someone else's responsibility!_

But the fact was… there was no one else. He was the last of the Time Lords, and that meant he couldn't give up, he couldn't throw in the towel and leave. It meant he had to carry on… alone, with only temporary companions like Martha, like Rose, to make the journey bearable.

He'd tried to cling onto the last little piece of John Smith's life, he'd tried to ask Joan to come with him, because deep down, he still felt the love that John had felt for her. He didn't want to lose her…

But her answer hammered home that he already had…_If the Doctor had never visited us, if he'd never chosen this place… on a whim, would anyone have died?_ She blamed him for everything that had happened, and rightly so. If he had never gone to that place, no one would've died. Innocents like Lucy Cartwright and Jeremy Banes would've lived long lives, never witnessing the horrors they did before they died.

The last glimmer of hope he'd clung to died, as the Doctor truly realised that Joan could never love him as she'd loved John Smith, and that he really was always destined to be alone…

For now though, all the Doctor wanted was to forget. Was a few hours of peace really too much for him to ask for? Surely he deserved that much.

So he walked away from Martha when they went back to the TARDIS. He needed to be alone. And he needed to forget… a human solution was his answer.

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Martha knew that everything was not alright. The Doctor had said he was fine, but she knew he was lying. She'd seen his face, and she'd seen the added grief and loss there.

He remembered everything from his time as John Smith, that she knew. And that meant he remembered everything that John Smith had felt. His love for Joan, his anger at his life being a lie and his fear when he realised he had to die.

It'd torn Martha apart to see the Doctor looking so weak, so afraid, so… lost. But then, he hadn't been the Doctor at all. He was just an ordinary man, in an extraordinary situation. He'd been told his entire life was a lie, a story fabricated by his true alien self, and that he had to die and give up the woman he loved and his future with her… So Martha couldn't even begin to understand what he'd gone through.

There was no way she was going to sleep that night. She didn't even try. Instead she wandered through the TARDIS, looking for the Doctor. And find him she did.

He was just sitting on his bed in his room, staring vacantly into the empty space in front him, an almost empty bottle beside him.

Hesitantly, Martha walked over to the Doctor and called his name. When he didn't respond, she picked up the bottle and looked at it.

_Hyper-vodka_, it said.

"You've been drinking?!" Martha asked incredulously, and more than a little angrily. Of all the stupid things she'd thought the Doctor might do, this hadn't even entered her head. It was too… human.

"Yes," the Doctor answered, his voice flat and emotionless, "I was trying to make it go away. Short of permanently erasing my memory, there is no other way."

"And did it help?" Martha asked, calmer now, knowing that shouting at the Doctor while he was in this state was not going to help anything.

At this, the Doctor looked up at her, and the forlorn look in his eyes nearly broke Martha's heart. "No," he said, his composure and his voice breaking, tears filling his eyes.

"I never thought this would happen!" he sobbed, "of everything I thought—everything I considered—everything I—" He shook his head, "I never thought this would happen!" he repeated.

"Come here," Martha said gently, not knowing what else to do. And she sat down on the bed next to the Doctor and put her arms around him.

"I remember, Martha," he sobbed into her shoulder, "I remember everything."

"I know," Martha soothed, rubbing his back.

"Before I changed back… he—I… we—we saw the life we could've had if I'd stayed human, if I'd stayed with Joan. We got married, and we had children, and we were happy together…"

The Doctor's voice broke off, but Martha didn't say anything. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say to make this better.

"I wanted to stay," the Doctor continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to have to be lonely again… Everyone always promises they won't leave, but they always do. Even Rose…"

There was that name again. Rose. The Doctor had mentioned her several times, but never elaborated. And whenever Martha asked, he would dodge the question and change the subject.

Martha had a feeling that she could ask him anything she wanted right now, and in his inebriated state, he'd tell her everything. But she couldn't take advantage of him like that, he deserved more than that, especially after everything he'd done for her, and everything he'd been through.

The Doctor pulled slightly away from Martha and pleaded, "I don't want to be alone. Please don't leave me on my own," looking for all the world like a frightened little boy.

So Martha stayed with the Doctor until he fell asleep, gently stroking his hair. If he didn't remember this in the morning, then she'd never tell him. He'd only feel guilty for burdening her, and awkward for telling her so much.

Even though she knew that he would never love her like she loved him, Martha knew that she would stay with him. He needed a friend, and the universe needed him.

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A/N: What did you think? I loved Family of Blood so much that I just had to write something, so I wrote this in about half an hour last night… without my contact lenses in, so sorry for any typos!

Also, I know the Doctor is a little out of character, what with the crying, but I reckon that that has gotta be in there somewhere, and he just doesn't wanna show it!

So, Questions, Comments? Please review!


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